


Hush-A-Bye

by skylights22



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Brief MPreg, Dubious Consent, Kid Fic, M/M, Misunderstandings, Muggle world, Multi, Polyamory, Reuniting, Romance, Ron Weasley has already died, Sick Child, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-08-11 15:50:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20156122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylights22/pseuds/skylights22
Summary: After a night none of them were prepared for, Harry disappears. Several years later, chance provides Severus and Draco at Harry's door, but things are changed. All of them wonder if a brief moment of connection can bud into love.Clearing up misunderstandings, navigating a romance, family is sometimes several lessons in trust.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to make it clear that Harry isn't scared at all during the sex scene in this chapter. His protest is the alcoholic influence and why I used the dub con tag. (That, and improper preparation because of aforementioned drunkenness.)

Severus was very irritated. Though this seemed to be his default setting, he could agree that at this moment, he was a little more irritated than usual. And he could blame everything on the blond at his side. He growled, following him along the curb. Draco squinted at the scrap of parchment. Severus at least had the fortitude to throw a pair of muggle trousers and shirt at him before being dragged into the suburbs of Dunham. 

Draco stopped at an intersection, mumbling incoherently beneath his breath. He looked up, granting a bemused sneer at the traffic light. Severus huffed, offering no assistance. Draco turned, glaring at the apartments and lofts squashed together. The homes were well cared for, potted plants hanging in bright colors from the windows. Vines climbed the terraces, clean iron-grated fences cutting the small lawns into squares. 

Severus couldn’t help but hate it. The neighborhood gave the air of the rich middle class. Perfect homes for newly married couples and toddlers struggling out of infancy. It was too damn clean and too damn cheery. He felt the urge to demolish everything in sight. He imagined the horrified looks on the inhabitants’ faces and grinned darkly, swiftly turning it into another scowl when two children ran by him trailing iridescent bubbles, giggling in too-high voices. 

He was going to fucking kill Draco. 

Said victim paused on the sidewalk (which didn’t even have the grace to be cracked and rooted with weeds). He looked up at a brick building, kindly old rather than senile. 557 Oak Lane Apartment 4. Wisteria caressed the front of the building, clinging to the brick. The purple flowers were in blooms and would have been lovely if the smell was trying to choke them. Small iron balustrades hung outside the top floor windows, each host to a variety of green plants. Curtains hid the inside from view. 

“I think this is it,” Draco said distastefully. 

Severus snatched the parchment from him, checking the address scrawled in elegant ink. He didn’t even want to be here, so he certainly wasn’t going to waste time at the wrong address. With a sniff, he handed the yellowed paper back to the blond, who gave him a smug look. Severus opened the gate and stalked to the door. 

_Henry Hunter_ was typed next to the buzzer to the third floor. With a sigh, Severus wondered why he was doing this again. Oh yes, because Draco was a ridiculous prat and thought an important part of business was checking up on their high-end customers and making sure their potions were working properly. Severus’ comment that if they weren’t working properly then the customer would _tell_ them was completely ignored. 

All their other customers were wizards and witches, addicts and patients in desperate need for their services. When he and Draco had started this business, they had created the names Atticus Michel and Sebastian Crow, knowing most the wizarding world would never accept potions from two former Death Eaters, no matter that they had been cleared of all charges. Even so, their small business, no matter how proficient, could not compete with the monopoly of St. Mungos apothecaries, and they were driven to providing for the sordid individuals trying to keep off the radar of the Ministry. 

How Henry Hunter, a muggle, had found them was a mystery. Most likely someone in his family was a muggleborn. It would explain how he knew how to contact them and how he knew that the only medicine capable of keeping his son alive existed in the magical world rather than the medical. Neither Severus nor Draco questioned it. They were thankful enough that the man had galleons for the monthly potion without bothering themselves with snooping into his personal life. 

They had just returned from visiting Roberta Visburn, an old witch suffering from a flesh-eating curse that required a weekly dose of lindorm poultice. And after this visit, the last of the day, Severus would happily announce them finished and spend the rest of the day shunning Draco for forcing him to participate in this farce. 

He hit the buzzer. The crackle was obese, and Severus could barely make out a male voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes?”

With a disgruntled scowl, Severus leaned into the speaker, holding down on the worn button. “This is Michel and Crow for Mr. Hun-”

Before Severus could get another word out, Hunter spoke over him.

“I’ms.... s’old... can...ear. Just co... up.”

The crackle ended, and the lock on the door made an audible click.

“I think he said come up,” Draco said behind him, eying the buzzer dubiously. 

Severus huffed.

The inside was quite lovely as well. The door to the landlord’s office was closed but an old woman sat outside in a rickety rocking chair, smoking a long pipe. She gave them a stern nod and continued rocking, playing the wooden tip around her teeth. Severus could see a stretch of light in the hall beyond her, where a small courtyard yielded a water fountain, an oak, and an austere swing set. A Middle Eastern woman smeared in paints, her bleached hair high in a ponytail, jumped down the stairs, grabbing the holster to swing around and avoid the last step. She ran off down the hall, disappearing into a separate room. 

A smile curved Draco’s lips, and he took a glance at Severus, who glared at him. They took the stairs, an out of order sign claiming the lift. The third landing was apparently a loft all by itself. The stairs ended into a nondescript, small alcove with only one door, childish doodles marking the walls, and a brass 4 above the knocker. 

Just get it over with, Severus said to himself, lifting the knocker. 

“Just a minute!” an eerily familiar voice said, muffled behind the door.

Severus frowned, trying to place the voice. Too soon, the door opened, revealing a man in his upper twenties. Green eyes peered brightly from behind oval glasses, unruly dark brown hair brushing the upper part of the frames. For a moment, they could only stare at each other.

“Severus?” 

“Potter?”

o.O.o

7 years ago:

Harry placed the flowers, five white carnations, on the grave. The soil was still freshly tilled, the outline of the squares of grass visible and uneven. Harry didn’t feel comfortable treading there and was standing beside the tombstone rather than in front of it. The face carved on the stone looked at him and up, as if trying to see the flowers above its head. It looked back at him and gave him a sad two-fingered wave. 

Harry smiled, running his hand over the stone. 

_Ron Weasley. _

_A lion among men._

Harry lingered a moment, trying to work up tears and feeling stupid at the need to. He tried to think of something to say, but all the words had already been used ages ago. He turned away and walked out of the graveyard. 

It had taken two years after the final battle, two years of potions and hospital beds, obscure foreign treatments, nightmares, tears, and brave faces for Ron to succumb to the curse eating away his nervous system. Harry liked to remember the face he wore when he had been playing quidditch and running late through the halls of Hogwarts to the wasted, twitching face positioned on the pillows in St. Mungos. 

Hermione had done well at the funeral, he thought. She had done well through all it. Helping Harry strap him to the bed when the seizures started, cooking the dinners when Molly was too exhausted with depression to rise from bed, scheduling the appointments, researching the treatments, making sure the MediWitches didn’t mix the medicines. She had headed for Australia yesterday. Harry imagined she was probably living happily with her parents now, fully obliviated. 

Harry made his way to the castle. After Ron became terminal, he and Hermione had rented a flat near St. Mungos. Though he still had a week on the lease, he had already packed his things and transferred them to his safe in Gringotts, waiting to be moved to wherever the hell else he would go. Minerva had allowed the funeral to be held at the school and had granted Harry a small guest room renovated from the dungeons. Tomorrow, he would book a room at the Leaky Cauldron and figure out things from there, but for tonight, he was happy to be in the one place where memories of the Golden Trio were unmarred by disease. 

He wandered nostalgically, and eventually dusk came and went. It was summer and a dusty wind carried the last of the day’s heat across the grounds. The castle was quiet in that strange way that only occurs during the summer. He walked the empty halls, coming to the suit of armor that guarded his room. He gave it a wave, moving to enter when a loud boom echoed from further down the dungeon. Harry gave the dark hall a bemused glance until curiosity won over the urge to dream.

The door to Severus’ study was cracked open, emitting a faint yellow light from within. Frowning and slipping his wand from the holster, he nudged the door open with his foot. Severus and Draco Malfoy were having a minor tug-of-battle over a half full decanter of what appeared to be scotch. The exploded remains of a black potion were splattered along the back wall, soaking into the bookcase and eating through a few novels. 

Harry sheathed his wand. Though in the past two years he had developed somewhat of a mutual respect for the two Slytherins, they weren’t precisely amicable. He had given testimony on both their accounts to the Wizengamot, but the ordeal with Ron had taken up most of his time. They both had provided potions for him when called, probably because they believed themselves to be in some sort of debt to him, though he adamantly denied it. When the self-pity had overwhelmed him, when the dejected faces of family members became too much to bear, they both had allowed him the voice to vent, lending whiskey and contrition in equal folds, which he was almost as grateful for as the potions. 

Severus suddenly managed to yank the bottle from Draco, who immediately began to pout. The force of the pull toppled him into his desk. The liquid sloshed over the rim. He gave a triumphant grin and tossed it back. Harry shook his head. He knew this really wasn’t any of his business, but Draco looked like he was about to start crying and half of Severus’ study was nearly destroyed. He figured the potion professor wouldn’t appreciate waking to find his office on fire, which seemed to be a viable option now that Draco appeared to recall he could do magic. 

He really should have just cast a few sobering charms at them, maybe have a few good laughs at their expense. Then, he would be off to bed and back to thinking about where else his life would lead.

He was not expecting the wide-eyed looks sent his way, as he if had just stumbled out of a gryffin’s rear, when he came into the room to wrestle them away from each other. It was reasonable to say he was shocked when Draco fisted the front of his robes and crashed their mouths together. He stumbled backwards, and Draco, who couldn’t keep his feet under him, fell forward, crashing them both on the floor. 

“What the hell?” Harry shouted, scurrying out from under him. 

His squirming landed him in the puddle of potion on the floor, and he could feel the reaction immediately, his eyes dilating and his chest constricting. He huffed hoarsely, palming his abdomen as something in his navel burned and tightened. Then, with a pop like a dislocated joint, it was gone, and the potion evaporated. He had only a moment to wonder what the hell had just happened when Draco grabbed his ankle. 

He yelped at he was suddenly yanked along the floor. Draco’s mouth was on his again, adding _way_ too much sloppy, bourbon tongue, and Harry was struggling to breathe. Harry punched him in the face. He stood, decided this was too much trouble just for a few laughs (though he couldn’t wait to see Draco’s face in the morning), and ran to the door. It shut in his face. 

He was turned, and Severus Snape was glaring down at him as if trying to determine which potion he belonged in. Severus was a head and a half taller than him and easily loomed, backing him into the door. His eyes, bloodshot and murky, were somehow still intense, his mouth set in a grim line.

Severus had his elbows resting to either side of his head against the door, locking him in. And he just stood there, not touching, with the strange intensity that made Harry feel like a moth in net. He swallowed and watched Severus’ eyes narrow on his throat. He ducked under his arm and might have made it to the bathroom to camp out until morning if Draco hadn’t caught the back of his cloak. 

Were they under some sort of spell, Harry wondered as he was unceremoniously tossed over Draco’s shoulder. 

“Put me the fuck down, God damn!” Harry yelled, managing to knee him in the chest. 

Already unsteady from the whiskey, Draco dropped to his knees. Harry rolled off his shoulder and ran right into Severus. He growled, his magic warming his fingertips. But Severus’ hand went around his waist, resting in the small of his back. The motion was so gentle and so very un-Snapelike that Harry floundered, his magic sputtering against his fingers. The hand pushed him forward, another tilting his face, and Harry was being kissed again. He froze in shock. Before he knew what he was doing, he had his arms raised to wrap around Severus’ neck. With a flustered, muffled oath, he flung himself backwards.

Before he had to time to ponder how that had felt really fucking good, there were hands at his hips. Draco, seeming to realize that crass motions would get him hit, nibbled delicately on his ear. Harry had his head thrown to the side in a gasp before he knew what was happening. Severus stepped forward, slipping his knee between his legs, and uncovered the side of his neck. Lips trailed wetly across his throat. Harry gripped Snape’s forearms, grinding against his leg. 

“S-stop,” he moaned. “You’re… God, you’re both drunk.”

Draco bit his shoulder, grazing his teeth along the flesh. Harry shivered. The blond’s fingers were kneading his hips, pressing a little too harshly to be gentle. Harry could feel his hips rolling behind him. The erection against his bum should have been terrifying, especially considering he’d never been with a bloke before, but all he felt was amazement. 

He pressed backwards, an animalistic moan escaping his throat. Draco’s fine hair was soft against the side of his face. It was strange feeling a living body against him. It had been over a year since Ginny, and he was all warm flesh. With a sensation of awe, Harry allowed Severus to lift him up and slam his back into a wall. The impact, somewhat foggy amidst his erection, served enough to wake him a little. 

He put his hands on Severus’ shoulders. “Let me down. You’re drunk.”

Severus gave a thrust upwards. A hard prick brushed against his balls. Even through his pants, it made Harry throw back his head and curse. 

“Let me down!” he screamed. 

A hand pulled Severus away. Harry fell, managing to maintain his feet by clinging to the wall, though his groin ached with loss. Draco grabbed his hand and tugged him to the bed. Harry made a last effort to rebuke this madness but was silenced by Draco’s mouth. They didn’t make it to the bed, collapsing at the edge. Draco grabbed the sheets, pulling them with them as they tumbled to the floor. 

The kisses were sloppy with still too much tongue, but Draco was grinding their groins together, and Harry didn’t care if he was the Minister of Magic if he kept that up. Draco straddled his stomach, leaning over him on his knees to tug at his lips. Harry twined his hands in his hair, regarding the wonderful feel of it. Someone unbuckled his trousers and began tugging down his pants. 

Harry abandoned his hair, trying to reach around Draco’s waist. His legs twisted, accidentally serving to allow Severus to tug his pants all the way down to his boots. Harry tried to unclasp their mouths, but Draco just followed him. Harry, irritated, struggled. Suddenly, there was a tongue licking the side of his cock. He froze. A mouth surrounded him, and he screamed into Draco’s mouth. His heels drummed the floor, restrained by his trousers. Hands pulled his thighs apart and pushed him down. 

Draco’s hands found the front of his robe and ripped off the buttons. He fumbled to pull the robes away, and he felt a sound of frustration when the blond realized he was wearing a t-shirt. Clumsy hands felt down until he found the rim. They slid over tender flesh, making Harry squirm. They pinched his nipples.

That fucking hurt, he wanted to scream. 

Draco played with them a little more and coherent efforts to slap away his hands were aborted in flailing. Eventually, the hands moved, one to cup the underside of his jaw and the other to palm the back of shoulder when he arched. Harry felt a little of the tension loosen, relaxing just a bit. 

Severus gave a suck, hollowing his cheeks. His thumbs pressed sharply into the hollow space of a tendon on the inside of his thigh. Harry climaxed, his nails scraping the floor. 

Draco released his mouth so he could pant. He felt listless. That had been more… violent than he thought he could possibly enjoy. He couldn’t believe Severus Snape had just sucked him off. 

But then he was really fucking drunk wasn’t he?

Guilt hit like a purse of bricks. Merlin, what the hell was he thinking? They were both drunk. They probably didn’t even know it was him. There was conversation above him that he just couldn’t grasp before Draco staggered off. Harry rolled over, shielding his face. He gained his elbows when a yank suddenly pulled him back. 

Severus had his hand in the junction between thigh and hip. He nudged Harry’s thighs apart. Harry felt a jolt of recognition shoot through him. 

“Snape, wait…”

Uneven footsteps met his ears, and he realized that Draco had left for something. Harry grabbed at the covers, pulling the last of them from the bed. He landed harshly on his elbow. Great, another fucking bruise. His muscles quivered. The robe still somewhat covered him. He felt it being flipped up to bare his bottom, and he made a choked, humiliated sound. 

Did he really think he was just going to get a blowjob and they’d be done? He forced himself to relax. It was only fair. He was the stupid one for allowing this to happen at all when he knew they were both sloshed out of their graves.

He buried his head in his arms. It couldn’t hurt that badly. There were plenty of men that got a kick out of this sort of thing. There had to be something to it. He let out a shocked cry when fingers, coated in some sort of goo, pushed in his arse. He kicked away only for Severus’ hand to come up and hold onto his shoulder. Suddenly, in addition to the strange invasion, there were butterfly kisses trailing his spine. He looked over his shoulder, shocked to see Draco gently spreading his lips over his robe, his hand running beneath him to splay his belly. 

He put his head back on his impromptu pillow, allowing a small smile to loosen his features even as he clenched around Severus’ fingers. Draco’s hand found his prick and started pumping him leisurely. It was clumsy, and Draco was having trouble kissing and tossing him at once, forgetting one when he became too involved in the other. Harry, amazed by such kind attention, relaxed enough for Severus to stretch him. He was already throbbing softly when he felt Severus shift.

His erection had returned, and Draco had abandoned his shoulders to circle his fingers and fondle his balls. Severus pushed his prick in, only to the head, but Harry still bit his arm to keep from crying out. His knees slid out from under him, swimming on the sheets. Severus pulled his hips up, and Harry cut clean through his skin. The metallic sting of copper filled his mouth, mixing well with the pain shooting through his spine. Severus made minute movements, growing larger in length and force. The pressure eased a little, but it still hurt like hell, so much like that stupid clichéd metaphor of being ripped apart that he wanted to hit his head against the floor. Then, Severus hit his prostate. 

The jolt went up through his back and down to his wilted erection. He felt his toes fizzle. Magic suddenly pooled in his shoulders, making them ache with bone that didn’t exist. His vertebrae popped. He was hot, much too hot. Sweat popped up beneath his robes and slicked his palms and the corners of his elbows. He pushed back against Severus’ hips, the pain overwhelmed by the heat. 

He screamed gutturally, coming again on Draco’s hand. He clenched around Severus’ prick, and the professor came. Harry and Severus panted, chests heaving. But that damn heat was restless, and he could already feel it moving to his balls. He reached down, ready to take himself to hand again.

Draco grabbed his shoulder. The blond tugged him out from under Severus, whose cock slipped limp from him. Leaking cum, Harry was bent over, ankles by his ears, his shoes thankfully having at some point slipped off, though they left a sock. He screamed hoarsely as Draco thrust in his cock. The heat swarmed low, his upper body strangely cold while his lower half burned. He fisted the sheets, smearing his bloody arm on the linens. He cried out with every thrust, feeling it vibrate in him. 

This couldn’t be fucking normal. 

Tears were flowing down his cheeks. He wanted to pull Draco down more. He wanted to climb atop him and make it faster, deeper, but the muscles in his stomach were liquid. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. He heard Severus hissing above him, and he snatched a glance. There was an expression of awe on Draco’s face, leaning over him, his mouth open and his eyes shut tight. Severus was whispering in his ear, a dark smile gracing his stern features. A black crow eye caught Harry and gleamed like a polished stone. 

Harry threw his head back and came for the third time, sure that if whatever damn magic that pooled him demanded much more, he’d die. With a cry more like a roar, Draco came. He collapsed atop him, bending Harry awkwardly. With a growl, Harry shoved him off, freeing his legs. He lied spread-eagle on the floor, chest heaving. The heat ran lazily before collecting at his navel and fanning out in a collective gasp that made him arch off the floor. 

He was covered in cum, sweat, and a fair amount of blood. The only piece of his clothing still intact was his red t-shirt, though it was irredeemably stained. He didn’t even have the strength to move his fingers. Revealing impressive resilience, Severus lifted him up over his shoulder, half-flinging him and half-falling on the bed. Draco joined them with an undignified flop three seconds later. 

Harry had his back curled against the headboard, his upper body strewn on the pillows, which were an impressive amount, especially for someone like Snape. Severus’ head occupied the hollow space along the curve of his belly, his legs hanging off the bed. Draco crawled up tiredly to curl around Severus’ back, the top of his head pressed against Harry’s chest. With a wince, Harry tugged his arm out from under him. It came around the curve of Draco’s neck, resting in the niche of his shoulder. 

Debauched, exhausted, with their trousers in disarray (or in Harry’s case absent), they shifted into unconsciousness.

o.O.o

Harry left before either of them woke. With any luck, neither would remember what had happened, though he knew luck had never loved him that greatly. Guilt suffocated him. And after that night, he wasn’t sure he could handle seeing the hate again in their eyes. Feelings coiled in his gut. And though he knew most of what made him nauseas was shame, another part of it was affection. The guilt made him want to die, but the affection just plain terrified him. 

So he saved them both the trauma of facing him in the morning and left. He found a random raunchy motel in the muggle world and jumped around using his Gringotts account until he could figure something worthwhile to do with himself. 

It was two months later, suffering from a fever, cold sweats, fatigue, and a severe case of dizziness that he wandered into a rural magical clinic and discovered he was pregnant. He was assured by a shocked mediWizard that no, this was not normal, even for wizards, no, this was not genetic, and no, he had no idea how to handle the situation. Harry could only figure that it had something to do with that blasted potion, in which case he should contact Severus.

But even the thought of that was too much. He couldn’t bear to look him in the face. So he asked around and found a Journeyman who knew a fellow in China who might be able to suggest another name for him who might know what to do. Dr. Li knew of a few cases of male pregnancies in the magical world, mostly the result of spirits and gods, not potion experiments gone awry. Dr. Li told him to abort it. Harry went back to England, sat down in his room, and then went back to China to ask the doctor how it could be delivered. 

After a week of haggling and a written will to be sent to Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy via Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the incredibly likely possibility that things went south, Dr. Li devised a way to pull the child from the pocket of space that somehow existed in the proximity of his navel, connected by an obscure magical canal that was serving as somewhat of a rudimentary umbilical cord, feeding on food and magic. 

Six months into the pregnancy, Harry’s body couldn’t take the drain anymore. Dr. Li pulled out a girl, completely free of placenta but red as a turnip and way too damn small. Harry, who was still very much alive, but exhausted, bleeding from his nose and consumed in fever, thought that would be the end of it. He had survived and, if those strong wails were anything to go by, so had his daughter. But the pain didn’t stop, and he was rolling on the operation table, clutching at his abdomen as blood started to seep from his eyes and anus. Dr. Li, aided by his wife, pulled out a boy, purple, barely breathing and just as small as his sister. 

Harry Potter’s magic sent out a final sputter and died. 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry clung to door, unable to believe that they were here. After all these years, they had found him. Though it didn’t look like they had meant to. Well, he couldn’t just leave them on the doorstep.

He swallowed and stood aside. “Would you like to come in?”

Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy followed him into the loft. The walls were vanilla, the living room, dining area and kitchen clean and full of everyday muggle appliances. Harry gestured to the table, which they collapsed into gratefully. He went to the kitchen, his movements visible over the counter, where three comfy stools stood to attention. He set a kettle on the oven and pulled a platter of shortbread cookies from a glass cake plate. 

“How did you find me?” he asked quietly as he set the tray on the table.

No one touched it. 

“You buy potions from our company,” Severus said in a wooden voice.

Harry gave him an owlish look, a look so familiar that Severus had to bite his tongue. He looked down at the table, his hands folded over each other. 

“Then I have a lot to thank you for.”

“What are you doing here?” Draco hissed, leaning across the table. “You just disappeared,” he said, the hurt eclipsing his careful mask.

“I thought it best at the time,” Harry said, his brow a mess of early laugh lines and guilt. “I… actually tried to contact you… several times, but I could never do it. I didn’t know what to say.”

“What do you say to the two people who raped you?” Severus said cruelly.

Draco flinched, but Harry’s reaction was more intriguing. He blinked at him.

“You didn’t rape me.”

Snape sneered. “Don’t play words with me, Potter. I know the implications of what transpired.”

Harry glared at him. “Then I shouldn’t have to remind you that I was the only one sober that night.”

Severus sneered. “I was drunk but I know you said no.”

“Severus,” he said in a long-suffering tone, as if the years meant nothing at all. “I could have blown you through a wall with a flick of my wrist. Or did you forget how powerful I was back then? You were so smashed I doubt you would have held much of a fight anyway.”

“So, you consented?” Draco said hopefully. 

“There was blood on the sheets, Potter,” Severus said over him. “And unless you like it rough, which I highly doubt…”

“I bit my arm,” he said irritably. “I wasn’t used to having pricks up my bum,” he hissed beneath his breath when they gave him two incredulous stares. “It hurt, ok. But it was… fairly pleasurable later. I wasn’t… raped.” He ran a hand through his hair in a motion they both noticed he hadn’t outgrown in seven years. “Yeah, the whole thing could have worked out a lot better, but you two aren’t rapists. Christ, is that what you’ve been thinking all these years?”

“Why did you run off then?” Severus argued. 

Harry gave him an angry look. “The two people who probably hated me more than Voldemort just got sloshed, and I let them have sex with me. If anything…” he started then broke off. “I didn’t want to have to deal with your disgust on top of everything else too. God, if you didn’t loathe me enough.”

“Disgust?” Severus repeated after a moment in a quiet voice. 

“Harry, how the hell could you think we hated you?” Draco said.

Harry opened his mouth a little in astonishment. “Um, possibly the years you spent making my life hell and the fact that we could never carry on a conversation without someone cursing someone else. How about how you constantly reminded me how I was an arrogant, reckless, immature Gryffindor. Oh, stupid too. And worthless. You never would let me forget that I managed to survive all on my thrice-bedamned luck.”

The kettle went off, and Harry stood to get it. He continued as he fixed the tea.

“I didn’t want you to fall down to my feet or anything, but when people sneer and condescend to you on a daily basis, it usually means you aren’t in their good graces.”

“And I suppose we wanted to fuck you just for the hell of it,” Severus snapped, glaring at him passed the counter.

“Lower your voice,” Harry hissed, peeking down the hall from the kitchen. 

“Are you living with someone?” Draco said, his eyes narrowed.

“Well, kind of,” he said, either ignoring the unsettled, jealous gleam in his eyes or ignorant. He brought out two cups of tea and set them down on the table. He rubbed his hands nervously. “That’s, uh, one of the reasons I tried… to contact you… and one of the reasons I couldn’t.”

“Has the great Harry Potter fallen in love with some charming witch?” Severus sneered, ignoring the tea. 

Harry glared at him and opened his mouth.

“Daaaad!” a cry cut him off. 

A boy, no older than six, darted out of a room down the hall. He crashed into Harry’s legs, only a blond head visible. 

“Cassie took Bunny! Cassie took Bunny and she won’t give him back!” 

“That’s not true!” a young girl yelled, following him out of the room.

A wild set of black curls rested atop her head, pinned by a silver and blue butterfly. Dark eyes peered out shrewdly from a porcelain face. She put her hands on her hips in an imitation of maturity. 

“He lost it! He needs to learn to grow up!” she sneered, ruining the image as she stomped her foot.

“Cassandra,” Harry said with a tired, overworked sigh. He pushed the boy to his side and lowered himself so they were face to face and took one of her shoulders. “Did you take Leon’s rabbit?”

“No,” she said sullenly. Harry lifted his brow. The girl glared at the floor, shuffling her feet. “I don’t remember.”

“Well, why don’t you sit in your room until you do?”

“That’s not fair!” she exclaimed. “I didn’t take his stupid rabbit!”

“Cassandra,” he said in a stern, warning tone.

Pouting, she stomped off indignantly. She looked back at Harry when she got to the door. Harry just stared back at her until she went into the room. Leon had seen the guests and was clinging to his father’s leg. A mismatch of eyes, one blue and one milky red, peered out at them shyly. After a moment, Harry pulled him up into his arms. The boy rested his head on his shoulder and stared at them. 

“Leon, this is Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy.”

“Harry, it can’t… is he…” Draco breathed, unable to finish, half risen from his seat.

He ducked beneath his bangs. “Yes,” he said simply, quiet enough that they had to strain to hear.

He slumped back down. “How?” he whispered.

Harry gave a shrug, rocking his hips in steady, habitual motion. “I think it was the potion on Severus’ floor that night. It got on me and then, well…”

“No one has survived,” Severus said quietly. 

“Well,” the brunet said again. “I did. Though Leon didn’t come out unscathed.” He moved his son’s bangs.

“The Vitality Potion,” Severus said. 

Harry nodded. He shared a look with his son. Leon looked down, and Harry kissed his forehead, rocking him gently.

“Is…” Severus gestured to where the girl had run off to.

“No, she’s perfectly healthy. Ridiculously healthy,” he said with a small smile. “She has more energy than Leon and I put together.”

“Dad, I found it!” the girl yelled suddenly, running from the room with a ragged, patched rabbit, sparse of stuffing. “It was on his bed right where he left it! I told you!” she said to her brother.

“Thank you, Cassie,” Harry said, handing the animal to the boy on his shoulder. 

She gave him a smug grin, then saw Severus and Draco.

“Who are you?”

“Cassandra,” Harry said sharply. 

She made an unhappy face but her ears flushed. She grabbed Harry’s pants leg. “I’m Cassie. My name’s supposed to be Eileen but I don’ like it.”

“Cassandra!” Harry admonished again, a small flush in his ears.

“Eileen,” Severus repeated, and Harry flicked his gaze to him worriedly.

She nodded, a small frown on her brow. “It’s my granmum’s name.” Her face broke out in a snide smile. “Leon isn’t named after anybody.”

“Am too!” the boy crowed, flailing his legs to try to kick her. Harry moved him up on his hip away from his sister. “I’m named after my grandfather! I’m named after my grandfather, aren’t I, Dad.”

Harry opened his mouth, but Cassie beat him to it. “Lucas doesn’t count.”

“It does too!”

“Does not!”

“It does too!” the boy said, starting to cry. 

“Cassie,” Harry said in a voice moving towards hostile. “Don’t be mean. And Leon, you don’t need to cry,” he said. He grabbed him beneath his arms and set him on his feet. The boy sniffed, rubbing his face while Cassandra glared at the floor. “What did I tell you I was going to do if you fought again?”

“Hang us outside the window and let the gremlins eat us,” Cassie chimed helpfully. 

Harry coughed, a suspicious sound almost like a laugh. “What _else_ did I tell you?”

“That we wouldn’t go to the park,” Leon said mournfully. 

Cassandra looked suitably trite, mumbling about gremlins. Harry sighed.

“Go to your room.”

“We can still go to the park can’t we?” Cassie had to say.

Harry fixed her with a silent look until she started to pout again. “I don’t know,” he said evenly, not looking away. “Can you get along?”

To prove her point, she took Leon’s hand and led him to the playroom. Harry watched her go, at once exasperated and utterly in love. 

“You should have told us,” Draco said.

He sat back down at the table, shadows pressed on his shoulder. “I didn’t know how… and I was scared they’d be taken away.”

“They’re our children!” Severus yelled, hitting the table. 

Harry didn’t flinch, though the tea jumped and spilled. 

“They are mine,” he said, voice pinched and painful. He shook his head. “It was...” His fingers curled. “Wrong of me to keep them from you, but I had to think of what was best for them, and when they were born, I’m sorry, but you did not factor into it. I had no idea how you would react,” he said when they started to rise in anger. “They are beautiful and wonderful, and I was not going to introduce them to a world where they would be considered abominations. They were safer here.”

“So you were just going to keep them a secret!” Severus yelled.

“Not forever,” he snapped. He paused and drew back. “They’re too young now to understand but… when they start to ask about you, really ask, I was going to tell them and let them decide what to do.”

“They’re our children,” Draco whispered.

“That’s not enough,” Harry said with a glare, dark in his pale face. “Leon is sick, Dra- Malfoy. His body isn’t…” His face crumpled and twisted and he looked away. “He can’t _handle_ stress, and the pureblood world is dangerous. What way would they _not_ judge him? My son? Your son? Some potion disaster, an abomination of nature. He’s fragile to that sort of thing. I have a hard enough time trying to manage how Cassie treats him.” He stopped, breathing heavily. 

“I could have helped,” Draco said quietly, stunned and hurt.

Harry laughed brittlely. “Do what? Turn him into your heir?”

Offended, Draco said heatedly, “He’s my son!” 

“This isn’t about you!” Harry hissed back at him. “I don’t care about your line or preserving your pride. It’s about _Leon_. Can you honestly say you would have been able to put him before everything else?”

“Everything else?” Draco said. His nostrils flared, and he leaned forward over the table. “I have nothing else. The war saw to that, or did you forget?”

Harry looked stunned. He had forgotten. In the whirl of stress and fear of his body’s changes, he’d managed to forget what the war had cost Draco. There was no Malfoy name, no wealth to fall back again and even their blood was tainted by failure. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, shame-faced. The fight was snuffed out of him. He ran his hand miserably through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it. I was...” He swallowed. _Scared_ was someone in the words he didn’t say. “I was only trying to figure out what was best for them.”

“And it was best to keep them separated from us,” Severus said quietly, voice like a stone.

Harry shut his eyes and took a breath. This was hard, harder than anything during the war except perhaps Ron’s death. “I was stupid and young. I thought... I thought you might get rid of them.” His eyes met his, haunted and dark. “I... I know you didn’t mean... I mean, I always knew it was an accident. I thought... you might be disgusted. It’s your blood, your genetics. I was scared,” he said, finally. “It made me stupid then, and later, I just didn’t know _how_.”

Severus’ hand came up and slapped the teacup. It poured tea across the floor and smashed against the wall with a brown smear. Harry stared at it, a good measure of fear painting his face. 

“Dad?” Cassie called, peeking around the door, her brother behind her.

He swallowed, his hand shaking just a bit. “I… I just dropped a cup. It’s ok.”

He stood, grabbing a towel from the kitchen, and praying that his heart would slow.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said in a steadier voice.

Her eyes swiveled to Severus, whose jaw was clenched so tight that a vein popped in his neck. 

“Darling, everything is fine,” Harry said, mopping the mess from the floor. “Go back to your room, alright. I promise,” he added with a smile when she hesitated. 

She nodded and shut the door. 

“Please, don’t do that again,” he said, moving to try to wipe the liquid from the wall.

Draco flicked his wand and the mess cleared. Harry grunted, staring at where the stain had been. He tossed the towel back in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter, trying to control the tremors in his body. 

“Are you alright?” Draco asked. 

Harry looked up. Face tight, he nodded, but he didn’t think it was true. He leaned away, holding his stomach.

“Can we... Maybe we should call it a day.”

“Do you plan to keep them from us?” Draco asked abruptly.

He shook his head. “No. Not if... They’re your children. If… if you want to. But think about it,” he said with an edge in his voice. “With Leon’s condition, if you decide to stay then leave...” He trailed off, not needing to say more. “Cassie too. They wouldn’t understand.”

They nodded. 

“Promise that you’ll abide by my rules,” he added. “At least for now.”

“And what are these rules?” Severus asked, his glare cold.

Harry’s face fell, and he hugged his arms. “I don’t know yet. Just don’t take them away from me and don’t tell anyone.”

Severus stared at him for a long moment before giving a single crisp nod. He stood and, with a wave of his hand, repaired the cup, which rattled as it fell back on its dish. Harry gave a soft, grateful smile. He followed them to the entrance and opened the door.

“Can we come back tomorrow?” Draco asked.

Harry hesitated, looking behind him, but he nodded. “I’m still taking them to the park. If you’ll be here at half nine then yes.”

“That’s very generous,” Severus said carefully.

Tired, haunted eyes looked up at him. His voice, when it came, was a whisper. “I didn’t keep them away because you were bad men.”

Severus stared at him a moment. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Potter.”

Harry nodded and closed the door.

o.O.o

Later that night, Harry tucked Cassie’s leg back beneath her sheets. Her hair made a midnight halo on the pillows, her mouth open, and her limbs sprawled indignantly. He picked up a beaten clown and a monkey, putting them in the trunk. He hopped across scattered Legos and a battleship to make it to Leon’s bed. The boy had curled up on his side, the poor rabbit squashed to his chest. Harry smoothed out his hair and kissed his forehead. 

He made a last swipe of the kitchen and living room, wiping the table and counter before turning out the light. He flung himself on his bed and turned his face to the light from the window. A car passed outside. The fountain in the courtyard outside his window was turned off. With a sigh, he sat up, unbuttoning his shirt. His closet door was open, and the mirror caught his eye. He stared at himself a moment before standing. He ran a hand through his hair, flattening a side. It popped back up, sticking at an odd angle like a rooster. Frowning, he finished undressing. He flicked off the light and crawled beneath the sheets. 

He stared at the ceiling. Ten minutes later, his teeth clenched and his breath coming choppily through his nose, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to stop the sobs from choking his chest. He turned on his stomach and proceeded to scream into his pillow. His hands fumbled for the empty space at his side, the side never used, the side always cool and always folded. He tore back the sheets and flung the pillow across the room. He pounded the mattress, sounds escaping his chest. He pressed his forehead to his knees, hugging his arms.

Nothing moved. Another car passed by on the street. 

He let himself fall on the ruined sheets, head missing the pillow.

“I’m sorry”


	3. Chapter 3

Severus watched a boy pour sand in Cassandra’s hair. She stood up and pushed him. He fell out of the sandbox and started crying. She shook her head like a dog, flinging sand in Leon’s eyes, who yelled at her, scratching at his face. Harry was off the bench three seconds before Leon called for him. 

“Let me see. Leon, I can’t see if you don’t stop rubbing it.”

“Did you see, Dad?” Cassie said. “He fell out of the sandbox.”

Harry applauded her with a sly smile. “Good girl.” He offered her his hand, which she smacked with her palm. “Next time, don’t fling sand in Leon’s eyes though.”

“Not my fault he was in the way.”

“Cassandra.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry brushed off Leon’s shirt. His eyes were red but little worse for wear. “You’re fine, sweetheart.” He turned to say something to Cassie but the girl beat him to it.

“Sorry, Leon.”

Harry smiled at her, ruffling her curls.

“Excuse me?” a woman said. 

She had the boy that had poured sand by the hand. He glared ruefully at Cassie, who tried to imitate a scowl back. The woman adjusted her purse impatiently.

“Your daughter pushed my son.”

Harry tapped Leon on the nose and stood. “And your son put sand in my daughter’s hair.”

She rolled her eyes, making a delicate snort. “Boys will be boys. It’s just the way he’s saying he likes her.”

Harry gave her a saccharine grin. “And that’s just the way she says she doesn’t like him. Nice to have things settled, isn’t it?”

She made an offended sound, huffing at him. She tugged along her son, stomping off. 

“My dad’s better than your mum!” Cassie shouted smugly after them.

Harry covered his mouth, snorting. 

“You’re just a stupid girl!” the boy shouted back, twisting in his mother’s grip.

“This stupid girl just kicked your stupid bum!”

“Cassie, don’t say bum,” Harry said, trying not to sound amused. 

“But I did!” she said indignantly. 

“You did,” he affirmed.

“Let’s go play on the swing set, Leon,” she said, grabbing his hand. 

“No jumping,” he told her, making his way back to the bench where Severus and Draco had been watching. 

“She’s just like Lily.”

Harry gave Severus a wide-eyed look before giving a small smile and a shrug. “Actually, I rather thought she was a lot like you.”

He scoffed. “I’m hardly that audacious.”

Harry laughed, and even Draco had the nerve to grin at him. 

“Professor, you are the very definition of audacity. Quick-witted, brash, crafty, demanding, possessive, defiant, and stubborn,” he said, listing only a few. “She’s just like you.”

“God spare the world,” Draco added. 

“I was not aware that you knew me so well,” Severus said.

Harry looked away.

At noon, Harry took them to a small parlor and bought a couple of sandwiches. He pulled Leon into his lap while Cassie knelt in a chair, making a show of carefully gathering her crumbs in a small pile. Leon kept staring at Severus while he nibbled on the bread, his mismatched eyes unnatural. Severus made an awkward face, staring back at him.

“Leon,” Harry whispered in his ear. “Staring’s rude.”

The boy looked up at him and averted his eyes, though he kept snitching glances at both Severus and Draco. 

“Done!” Cassie shouted, slamming a bottle of milk on the table. 

Harry picked up a napkin and wiped the mustache from her face. He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a few pounds. She ran up to the counter, returning with a red popsicle that begged a mess. She had the decency not to slurp at the thing, leaning with her elbows on the table to try not to get it on her dress. Soon, her mouth was completely red, the juice running over her fingers. 

Harry smiled at her. 

“Cassie, you looked like you just ate someone.”

She gave Leon a cheeky grin that was rather quite alarming. The boy glared back. Harry barred him against his chest with an arm, sending his daughter a mock-daring look. She grinned on return, smacking her lips loudly as if to threaten her sibling’s eventual consumption. Leon put down his sandwich, half-eaten.

Harry leaned over him, peering into his face. “Leon?”

“I’m not hungry,” he said, looking slightly pale. 

Harry’s hand went to his forehead.

“Alright, son. You want to go home?”

He shook his head and look up at Draco briefly.

“I wouldn’t really eat him, Dad,” Cassie said in a small voice. 

He smiled. “I know, sweetie. Why don’t you take him to get some ice cream?” he said, taking him from his lap. He handed him some money.

The boy was looking more pale now and stared at the floor. Cassie took his hand and dragged him to the counter. 

“I think we’re going to have to cut the day short,” Harry told the two men.

“Is he alright?” Draco asked, his gaze trained on the boy. 

Harry’s face suddenly looked very old. He opened his mouth and changed his mind. “It comes and goes. Being around new people makes him nervous, so I’m not surprised it happened today. I’m just happy he managed to enjoy the morning. We’ll see how he feels after the ice cream,” he said when Draco didn’t respond. “Sometimes it helps.”

Leon crawled into Cassie’s chair with a cup of vanilla ice cream. Harry pulled Cassie into his lap and pulled a towel out of his satchel, wetting it in his water to clean her face and hands. She squirmed and fussed but it was a halfhearted effort. 

“Want to make sure I got everything?” Harry asked, handing her the towel. 

She scrubbed her hands without comment. Harry brushed away her bangs. 

“I think it’s time to head home.”

Leon shook his head emphatically then knit his face like he was in pain. 

“We’ll have another day, Leon,” Harry said. “Everything will still be there tomorrow.”

He slid Cassie out of his lap and knelt at Leon’s chair. “Look, no sad faces, see? We had fun at the park. We can have fun at the house too. No one’s upset. And we’ll go out again with Severus and Draco. You like them don’t you?”

He nodded, his eyes swimming. “They aren’t going anywhere either, are they?” he said, looking to them.

They both nodded, rather shocked that the introverted boy liked them. Leon looked at his father, and Harry smiled endearingly. He held out his pinky.

“Even if I have to save them from the foulest, deepest dungeon on the other side of world, I promise we will spend another day in the park.”

Leon wrapped his small finger around Harry’s. Harry kissed his forehead and began clearing the table. 

“Can you two come by Friday and we’ll try again?”

“That is reasonable,” Severus said. 

“Uh, I’m guessing you don’t have a phone. I’ll try to find an owl if anything changes.”

“You don’t have one?” Draco said.

“Unless it’s for Leon’s potion, I don’t have that much connect with the magical world anymore.”

“What about that Granger-girl?” Severus said, frowning.

Harry blinked, pausing by the door. “Hermione obliviated herself after the funeral.”

The Slytherins blinked at him. Harry ushered Cassie outside.

“I’ll see you Friday.”

o.O.o

Harry collapsed on the sofa. He propped his feet on the coffee table. Cassie had decided that she wanted to play princess and knights today. She made Severus into a pterodactyl (because, and he quoted, “he already has a beak”) and hid Leon in a fort in Harry’s bedroom. Harry was her sidekick, but he was lame in one foot and couldn’t speak. Draco was made to guard the dungeon where Severus had stashed the princess, or prince, as Leon adamantly insisted. She had brandished a foam sword and battled the two Slytherins. Whenever Harry forgot to limp, she yelled at him. He apologized and she told him he wasn’t supposed to talk either. 

Leon got bored in the dungeon and made a tryst with Draco, which led to Cassie running through the house screaming “Treachery!” at the top of her voice. She got a little too rowdy, and Harry took them to the courtyard. About halfway through the battle, Cassie had discovered that the river (the fountain) had been poisoned, and she had died a foul death, vowing vengeance on all their houses only to return as a zombie, stab Draco and steal Leon back from him. Harry, who apparently had been a king in disguise, crowned her the royal Undefeatable Conqueror, and she made Severus promise not to steal any more princesses (“Princes!”) out of windows. 

The royal Undefeatable Conqueror was currently sprawled on top of her comforter with a plastic dinosaur in her arms. 

“Thanks for today,” Harry said. “I know she can be exhausting.”

Draco was sitting on the arm of the couch, and Severus was leaning against the wall.

“Not at all,” Severus said, his voice strangely soft. 

“I can’t believe she killed me,” Draco whined. “She didn’t kill Severus.”

“At least you weren’t the one with the beak,” Severus retorted. 

Harry let out a tired laugh. “She was just happy to have more actors. I usually have to be three different people and a monster, and she gets frustrated when I don’t know when she switches them.”

It was quiet a moment as Harry allowed himself to relax.

“Has it just been you?” Draco asked. 

He opened his eyes. A sad look came over his face, but it was gone the next moment. “There might have been a woman once. She loved them both I think, but I didn’t know how she would react if one of them accidentally did something magical. It was too risky.”

“So you’ve been alone this entire time?”

Harry was silent a moment. He rose and began clearing away dinner.

“In the way you are speaking, yes. But Cassie and Leon have always been with me,” he said, stacking dishes. “And I’m hardly idle,” he said more brightly.

The dishes fell from his hands, scattering on the table, when he felt a body behind him, pressing into his back and bottom. He stared, wide-eyed, at the table. 

“You’ve raised two beautiful children all by yourself,” Severus whispered into his ear, bracing his hands gingerly to either side of him against the table. 

“What are you doing?” Harry said breathlessly. 

Severus backed away a little, and Harry turned around, staring up at him nervously.

“You know,” Draco said, his arms folded over the back of the couch as he watched them. “I didn’t think you could be more beautiful than when you stood up in the Wizengamot and told those old fools to pardon us, but I was wrong. Being a father suits you, Harry.”

Harry gaped at him, the husky quality of his grey eyes and cultured voice pooling between his legs. He looked back to Severus when the man started to move. Slowly, he leaned down, and Harry could not believe that it could be in a kiss. He had plenty of time to move, to push him away, to speak, but he was frozen. When Severus’ lips touched his, he moaned desperately, moving his head back and shutting his eyes. 

With no forewarning, his legs buckled. He slipped from Severus’ mouth to land in a heap on the floor, touching his fingers to his lips. There was no way this was happening. This was a dream. 

“You don’t… have to do that,” he said weakly. 

“I want to,” Severus said in a dark purr, staring down at him. 

Harry shook his head. He didn’t understand.

“I don’t expect you to… I mean, we’re not- You don’t have to do that,” he said again. “I don’t expect you to just because Cassie and Leon are… ours,” he said, licking his lips. 

“Rest assured, Potter,” Severus said, backing away. “I am under no obligation to want to bend you over the table, pull your trousers around your ankles, and fuck you.”

Harry closed his mouth with a snap. His balls tightened. 

“For Merlin’s sake, Potter,” Draco said, exasperated. “We like you. We weren’t so drunk not to know who we were fucking. We were drinking in the bloody first place because we didn’t know how to approach you or did you think it was because of the bloody Weasel?”

Harry scowled, trying to take offense against the slight against Ron. He shook his head.

“You mean both of you… You were arguing over…”

“Don’t be stupid, Harry,” Draco said with a sneer. “Severus and I have been together since the war ended. We both want you. It’s a called a threesome. Though we want it to last much longer than a typical stand. If you hadn’t _run off_,” he grumbled. 

“You both _hate_ me! And I’m… I’m just… This is insane.”

“From that moan earlier,” the blond said, “you are at least attracted to Severus.”

Harry gaped at him. He sounded… jealous. Draco Malfoy was jealous because he thought Harry only liked Severus Snape. 

“I… am very confused right now.”

“I think the matter is rather simple,” Severus said, folding his arms and leaning nonchalantly against the wall. “You are either attracted to us or you aren’t.”

Harry gave a hysterical laugh that made them both grimace. “Attraction is not the problem,” the man said, running a hand over his forehead. “I am so unbalanced. I have to be bloody insane. God, what is wrong with me?”

“It is insane for you to be attracted to us?” Draco said, scowling.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m going through a… I don’t know what I’m going through right now. Forgive me for not minding my words, but f-fuck yeah, it’s bloody insane!” he snarled at him. “You just… you just turn everything I thought I knew about my life upside down. I’m entitled to say this is insane! Bloody hell!”

“Do you require a calming draught?” Severus asked.

“No, I don’t require a bloody calming draught!” he hissed, barely able to keep himself from waking the kids. “And you two condescending to me is not helping.”

“We should leave,” Severus announced. 

“Yeah. No! Just- This isn’t a joke is it? Because if it is, then it’s in really bad taste.”

“I can assure you neither of us would presume to joke on such a matter,” the potion master said in a dark voice.

“Alright, good,” he said flustered. “And you aren’t going to disappear right? I just need some time. You’ll come back right?”

“Yes, Potter,” Severus said after a moment, softer than before. 

“Alright… Good night, then.”

“Good night, Potter,” Severus said by the door.

Draco looked over his shoulder, an undecipherable expression on his face. “Night, Harry.”

Harry gave a wave from the floor. The door shut, and he put his face in his hand. It was times like these that made him wish he drank.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry bit into the ravioli, trying not to think about Cassie and Leon. It was actually quite good. It had a cheese stuffing that he had never managed to perfect. Though really, he rarely had the chance to experiment. Neither Leon nor Cassie were fans of ravioli, especially the fancy restaurant kind. 

He tried not to feel awkward. He wasn’t really the dating type, at least this type of dating. His only other experience was that disastrous trauma with Cho at that frilly shop whose name escaped him. Ginny had been the tomboy type. Even Clarice had been more of the roller skating, paintball tournament type of date. He certainly didn’t know what to do with two Slytherins in the middle of a mildly crowded restaurant in Italy. 

God, he was in Italy.

They had accounted for his disregard for the magical world and chosen a muggle restaurant, though no less well to do. He was dressed in khaki slacks and a cream-yellow button-up, the only thing in his dresser that Cassie hadn’t stained and/or burned (and only because he never wore it). His hair was as impossible as always, his glasses just as bulky and awkward, though at least his shoes were somewhat polished and matched his belt.

Severus and Draco looked much better. Draco’s hair was brushed to a shimmer, away from his face though, a single strand played artfully with his left brow. His blue shirt was silk (of course it was, Harry thought), the cuff links inlay pearl dragons. It was tucked into expensive black trousers, a suave black trench coat taken by the doorman. Leather boots, complete with thick heels, were crossed beneath the table.

Severus had chosen a black shirt, but his sleeves were rolled up like Harry’s, revealing slender pianist hands that made an art of cutting into his sirloin, the Dark Mark faded and dull inside his wrist. His vest was the same dark color as his shirt, visible only in the way it clung to his chest and shoulders. Tarnished, pewter buttons held it close in a single, straight line down his abdomen. His trousers were just as lush as Draco’s, tucked into less ornate leather boots. He held his hair in a short tail, baring his neck, which was porcelain white. 

He took a sip of wine, trying to ignore the stares they were receiving. 

“How did you get Crow and Michel started?” Harry asked conversationally. 

“We already had the legalities of it worked out before you left,” Draco said. “We were searching for a premises. It was mostly just a matter of finding customers. We’re both brilliant at potions already,” he said with a grin. 

“And I’m completely pants at it,” Harry said, not offended. “Though that might have had something to do with someone breathing down my neck waiting for me to mess up and someone tossing things into my cauldron,” he accused.

“No, you’re inept on your own,” Severus said. 

Harry gave a good-natured snort. “Of course, it can’t possibly be your fault at all.”

“Of course not,” he agreed. 

Harry speared a ravioli. Severus lifted an eyebrow. Harry returned the gesture with a smile, taking a bite. 

“What about you?” Draco asked, hiding a smirk. “What were you going to do? You know, before…” he said, making a grand gesture. 

“I have no idea.”

“No auror training?” Severus said.

“Or quidditch recruiting?” Draco added. 

“I’m not a complete airhead, you know. I just liked flying. I had no interest in being a quidditch player. As if I wasn’t famous enough,” he said with a sniff. “And you’d be crazy to think I’d work for the Ministry after everything they did.”

“So you had no plans whatsoever,” Severus said in a resigned sort of way. 

“I thought about taking up the Defense position. You know, with all the previous professors getting offed or thrown out of the school, I thought I might stand a chance,” he said, smirking.

Severus gave him a glare. Harry laughed and leaned back.

“Honestly… I think I wanted to study wards. I was always fascinated by them, and Hermione would always go on these rants about runes that I found sort of interesting. I had a long talk with Bill about it. The Weasleys’ eldest,” he reminded them. “Curse-breaker for Gringotts. He got to travel a lot, which was something I wanted to do at the time. But, it was just a fancy,” he said, returning to his food. 

“You can take it back up, you know,” Draco said. “Now that Severus and I are here.”

Harry laughed softly, his eyes shining kindly. “Trust me, that dream is long buried. I don’t even think about it anymore. I’d rather stay with Cassie and Leon.”

It was quiet for a while until Draco spoke again, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why Cassandra and Leon? I mean, why choose those names?”

“Oh, well,” Harry said, taking a sip of water. “I spent months picking Cassandra’s name. I kept changing my mind and eventually Cassandra just stuck in my head. Leon… was a little different. I mean, the whole thing was just… surreal. I didn’t swell up or anything. I just got really weak and that sort of thing. About six months in, Dr. Li - the person I found who was probably the only man on the entire bloody planet that knew anything about male pregnancies… he noticed that my body was starting to shut down. He took a guess and treated the womb like that little pocket of space that you can carry around and keep stuff in,” he said vaguely, waiting for them to nod.

“Well, he just sort of cast the same spell and swooped his hand in my belly and pulled out Cassie. It was actually rather anticlimactic. I don’t know why everyone else had such trouble with it. But, we thought that was the end of it. I’m pregnant. Take out child. I’m not pregnant anymore. But that stupid potion gave me two wombs and we never noticed. I mean, how the hell would we notice anyway? The whole process was as vague as hell. 

“So I wasn’t getting better, so Dr. Li performed the spell again and pulled out Leon. I was unconscious for a few weeks, but when I woke, I had two kids and only one name. I wanted to name him after a constellation because he was obviously yours and your name was a constellation. I couldn’t very well name him Sirius, and I knew you’d hate it if I called him Leo so I called him Leon.”

He got a faraway look in his eyes and leaned over the table, resting his chin over his knuckles. “You know, I sometimes wonder about how lucky I was. What were the odds that I would get a piece of each of you? I survived what no one else had and even had two children to show for it. One this beautiful, black-haired girl who wouldn’t stop crying and the other this gorgeous boy who could fit in the palm of my hand, and I realized that I could give them a wonderful home. I’d never been so thankful in my entire life.”

“They’re lucky to have you, Harry,” Draco said.

He shook his head, leaning back. “No, I’m lucky to have them, and I haven’t really thanked you yet either. For allowing them to be here and for keeping Leon alive for so long.”

“There’s no need to thank us,” Severus said.

“Maybe not,” Harry agreed courteously. “But I still want to. If I had to be subject to some botched potion experiment and get knocked up, I’m glad it was you two,” he said, lifting his glass.

“Well, if I had to sire an illegitimate son off a bloke, I’m glad it was you, Harry,” Draco responded, grinning cheekily.

Severus knocked glasses with them, eying Harry with a strange hot gleam that felt like a promise. 

o.O.o

“Mary?” Harry whispered as he opened the door, peering inside.

“They’re asleep,” the woman said from the couch, where her lap was busy with two tiny heads. 

It was the same woman who had run passed Severus and Draco when they first arrived. A young woman of some Middle Eastern descent with her hair dyed blonde. She had on overalls streaked with paint, her fingernail polish chipped, each a different color. Harry dropped his coat on the back of a chair. 

“Dad?” Cassie slurred, rubbing her eyes. 

“Hey, sweetie. You try to stay up?”

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she protested blearily. 

“Ok, sweetheart. You ready to go to bed?”

She nodded, yawning. 

“Thanks, Mary,” he said to the sitter.

“Sure thing, Mr. Hunter,” she said, hoisting Leon on her shoulder. 

She helped tuck them in. Harry paid her in the kitchen while Draco and Severus took seats at the table. 

Mary whistled lowly. “Wow, Mr. Hunter. Two blokes? I didn’t know you were such a devil.”

Harry shook his head at her, trying not to smile.

“Night, Mary.”

“Good night to you too, Mr. Hunter,” she said with a saucy wink, disappearing down the stairs. 

“Good grief,” he muttered.

“I don’t know, Mr. Hunter,” Draco said. “You might be out of your element here.”

“Oh, I’m sure I am,” Harry said, happily. His element was utterly trite and boring. He plopped down on the couch to unlace his shoes. 

He got one off before Draco straddled him. Harry gave him a half-irritated, half-amused glower, but his hands still snuck up to Draco’s waist, touched chilled to soft skin beneath his shirt.

“Can I at least take off the other shoe?”

“No,” Draco said, claiming his mouth. 

He’d been right. Draco’s tongue was much better when he was sober. Draco’s hand ran through his hair, pulsing in his grip. He felt Draco shiver suddenly, and he realized that Severus was standing behind him, running his finger up his spine and down into the crevice of his bum. A single, blunted nail was doing a lot for Draco’s concentration, he mused when the man pulled away with a hiss to arch his back. Harry laughed and squeezed the back of his thighs, running his fingers on the tender, sensitive area of his inner legs he’d yet to explore. Draco moaned wantonly, resting his forehead on Harry’s shoulder.

“Move to the bedroom,” Harry whispered, slightly surprised by the husk in his own voice. “If the kids wake up, I want some warning before we blind them.”

Draco growled and hauled him up by his hand. Severus followed wryly as Harry was dragged to his room. Draco flung him on the bed while Severus shut the door. Harry laughed. He sat up and hurriedly unlaced his shoe. He had enough done so he could kick it off when Draco tackled him to the mattress. 

“Slow down,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Of course you’re not,” he said, pushing his hands up his shirt and pressing his tongue against his lips. 

Severus put a hand on his shoulder. “Patience, Draco,” he said with a smirk. 

Draco huffed but drew back, much to Harry’s amusement. 

“Stand up,” Severus told him.

With a smirk, Harry obeyed. Severus took off his glasses, putting them on the dresser. Severus framed his face with his hands and pulled him into a kiss. Harry rose on his tiptoes to grant him his mouth, his hands resting against the ones against his jaw. He breathed heavily, trying to pull Severus further down. The man remained steady, and he ended up undulating. 

He felt Draco move behind him, more restrained this time. His belt was taken. Draco’s hand dipped into his pants, and Harry surged upwards. He hooked a finger at his entrance, not pushing but running along the puckered rim. He made small noises against Severus’ mouth, his groin formed against the older man’s. Draco reached a little further forward and stroked his balls. 

“Fuck, Draco,” he breathed coarsely, clinging to Severus’ shoulder. 

“Sexually frustrated, my dear,” Severus smirked into his hair. 

“Shut up,” Harry hissed. He ran his leg around Severus’ calf, trying to bring their cocks closer. 

“Now who’s impatient?” Draco chuckled, running his finger back up and into his crevice. 

Harry shuddered. He began ripping the hem of Severus’ shirt out of his trousers and was dismayed by the amount of work it would take him to get the man out of his robe. “What is it with you and buttons?” 

Draco gave a snort behind him. “Tell me about it.”

Severus smirked, resting his hands on Harry’s shoulders with a frustratingly unpleasant lack of hurry. Since Severus was playing unresponsive and Draco was rubbing fantastic lines between his scrotum and his arse, Harry flung his head back, letting it fall against Draco’s shoulder. Severus attached to his neck with thin lips.

It was so different, he thought. After seven years, the night they’d had together wasn’t like the gunshot it was before. Though not proud, he had kept the memory alive, and he could still remember the rough pain that mixed with the pleasure. Severus and Draco couldn’t possibly remember it as well as him, but it seemed like they were taking unnecessary care to be gentle. Other than that night, Harry had only slept with women, and he still dimly associated that wild pain and pleasure with being penetrated. 

With his forehead pressed to half a pillow and Severus slicking the inside of him with wet thrusts, he realized how different it could be when someone actually knew what the hell they were doing. His hot breath was thrown back at him against the pillow, sweat sliding down his back and thighs. 

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to do this?” Draco whispered, breathless.

With a touch to his arm, Harry pulled himself to his knees. Severus’ cock slipped out, and he shivered at the sensation, trying not to think about the image that accompanied the sound. Draco grabbed him by the waist, drawing him into his lap. Harry’s mouth watered, and he was embarrassed that his body could not stop trembling. Excitement, exhaustion, nerves. Who bloody well knew? 

Draco guided himself in, but Harry, somehow through the miraculous strain in his thighs, set the pace. His fingers scattered across Draco’s shoulders, and he couldn’t name the sounds escaping helplessly from his throat. A moment later, Draco’s temper returned, and he pushed Harry onto his back. He felt only vague irritation and indignity before Draco thrusted forward, and he decided he didn’t give a fuck.

Harry spread his legs wide and _moaned_. His hands found Severus, and turning his head, he was able to ask for a kiss, panting and whimpered incoherently. With a smirk, Severus let his lips try to find his. When they finally grabbed him, Harry snaked a hand in his hair (not as greasy as it used to be, he noticed) and delved in his mouth with his tongue. They were upside down mostly, and Harry delighted in the way he was able to touch regions previously unexplored. Severus felt his climax approaching. His tongue fumbled, his jaw falling open as he was stuck between gasps. 

With a flick of the wand he’d picked up in the moment when Harry’d been distracted, he summoned a ring around the man’s prick. Harry screamed at him in fury while Draco finished. But in the next moment, Severus had taken Draco’s place and knelt between his open legs. Harry looked down at him beside the purple head of his cock. With a smirk, Severus swallowed his length and banished the ring. Harry screamed again, with complete abandon. Severus swallowed the strands, hollowing his cheeks. When Harry finished, panting roughly and lying limp, Severus released him. Draco touched the back of his neck and turned his head to wash the remains from his lips. 

Harry laughed softly, too dazed to be embarrassed. He felt utterly indolent as he watched the two kiss, twirling his fingers over Severus’ hand down beside his hip. 

He wanted to tell them how sorry he was, but he didn’t think they’d find the gesture as romantic as he did. He wondered if this could last forever, but the next moment, he laughed at himself. Nothing lasted forever. That’s what made it brilliant. He wasn’t sure if this thing that he was feeling could be called love, but it was warm and pleasant so it didn’t much matter.

“Are you staying?” he asked when the potion makers continued to sit at the edge of his bed with gentle fingers on each other’s skin.

“Do you want us to?” Draco asked him. 

“I’ll make you breakfast.”

“I’m staying then,” the blond declared. 

Severus made a small eye roll but did nothing to dissuade him. Harry took that to mean consent and rose from the mattress. He pandered over to the dresser.

“I doubt I have anything in your sizes,” he said, rifling through his pajamas.

“I sleep in the nude,” Draco said with a shrug.

Harry gave him a look over his shoulder. “Cassie’s my alarm clock.”

“Oh.”

He smiled, finding two sets of flannel bottoms. “You’ll have to enlarge them.”

He stepped back to search for his own clothes when Severus spoke, thumbing the waistband of the pajamas.

“Is there some reason I haven’t seen you perform a single spell since we’ve been here?”

Harry stilled. Of course, he knew they would have noticed, and he’d done nothing to hide it. How could he? But still, he thought he’d be clothed when they decided to have this conversation. He tried not to let it bother him. He couldn’t possibly be _more_ vulnerable than beneath both their bodies. He could still feel the cool trail of cum running down his thigh.

He turned around and stepped into the bathroom for a moment, turning on the shower. When he entered the bedroom again, Severus looked both irritated and vaguely worried, which easily translated to hostile. Draco wore a similar expression, the two very alike in that at least. 

“I can’t perform magic.”

The shower filled the silence. He folded his arms over his chest and waited for their reactions. Oh so long ago, he would have thought they would have attacked him, but such assumptions had long died. And he wondered only if they would stop wanting to have sex with him, which admittedly would be a bigger loss than he cared to consider. 

“At all?” Draco whispered, as if unable to contemplate the capability.

Harry shook his head. “Leon was too much. They were premature and... not normal newborns... my magic... Well, my magic was keeping them alive, which means they were essentially eating it. If I’d had any less, I think they would have died.”

Severus sat on the edge of the bed, and Harry knew what he was thinking.

“I could have aborted you know. Dr. Li told me… This was my choice.”

“I made you…”

“You gave me my children,” he said, kneeling in front of him. “You think I care if I’m a squib? They’re alive. It was an accident. I have never blamed you. Either of you.” 

“How can you…” Draco stammered. “Harry, we took your magic!”

“Don’t be arrogant,” he snarled, rising. “I _gave_ my magic. I can’t fly anymore. I can’t do spells or apparate. So I’m 99% of the population. Who cares, Draco?”

“Who cares? You’re… You used to be… You were so powerful, Harry.”

Harry felt his chest tighten, and his gaze swept cool over Draco. “Is that why you wanted me?”

“No!” he cried, shrinking from him in wounded outrage.

“Then what does it matter?” he said softly. Steam billowed past the door, and it felt lovely in his mind. “Look, The Boy Who Lived was just a title. I never cared for it, and it never gave me anything but headache. Having magic didn’t bring me any more happiness than living with my relatives,” he said, and those contemptuous years flowed back to him. Of fixing dinner he wasn’t allowed to eat, of cleaning a house that he was never at home in. Magic had been an escape for all of two blissfully wonderful years, but even that had died when he told a snake not to be afraid of the young boy in the front row of a childish duel. 

He remembered moments with Ron and Hermione, but those times were gone as well, stained by the way things ended between them. He had never been happier than he was raising Cassie and Leon. Not even his reunion with Draco and Severus could compare. He felt _loved_, and it was a feeling that he knew could resist anything. 

“I’m happy.”

The wizards stared at him, as if trying to find the lie. It was strange, but he didn’t feel vulnerable at all. His confession hadn’t been anything like he thought it would. His mind still fogged with doubts, but they were really about _him_. 

“I’m going to get in the shower. If you need to…” and he hesitated only a moment, eying the door as if he needed to actually imagine them going through it, “you can leave.”

He turned away and closed the door. Clarice was the only one who had ever used the lock, and he stared at it in amusement before shaking his head. He was right. The shower was lovely-hot, easing the soreness down his spine and his abused muscles. He was out of practice with exercising, his only strenuous activity chasing down Cassie. 

Neither Draco nor Severus interrupted, and he felt thirty minutes was enough for them to decide what they wanted. He turned off the spray. He didn’t hear the sounds of talking, and he specifically strained his ears to listen, though he denied it. He dried off and slipped on pajama bottoms. After picking at his hair, he decided he was being stupid and opened the door. 

They were still there, though they had changed into their own nightclothes and had banished the sweat and semen from the room. 

“You’re here,” he whispered, unable to really believe it.

“I believe you said we could be,” Severus remarked.

He looked so ridiculously unsophisticated in Harry’s pjs, a worn grey t-shirt that he had most likely unearthed from his drawers covering his chest. Harry didn’t think he’d seen him look more beautiful though. It was difficult fitting a word like that on Severus, who sometimes resembled a lamppost more than a human, but he was, so utterly relaxed and casual and everything that Harry had learned to associate with happiness. 

Harry walked to him. Severus watched him with eyes that Harry had always thought belonged to a carnivorous bird. He didn’t know that he could also find them gentle. Knowing it would annoy him, he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Severus blinked then huffed at him, wandering away like a prissy cat. 

“Cassie and Leon come in around six or seven,” he told Draco, who looked as at home topless and in Harry’s nightwear as he did flaunting the latest trend in Italian wizard coats. “Are you sure you two are fine with work tomorrow?”

“We have enough time to return in the morning and open.”

Harry raised his brow. “No potions on the boil?”

Severus glared at him. “Some of us have to work to earn a living.”

Harry nodded in an agreeable way and patted the bed. “Get to bed then. Can’t have you falling over freshly sliced doxie eggs.”

Severus had more grace than to grumble. He gave Harry a long, unimpressed stare, daring him to continue. Fortunately, Harry was in fact tired. Draco climbed beneath the covers. Severus flipped the light and immersed the three of them in darkness. A moment later, Harry felt the man climbing in on Draco’s other side. Harry had a large bed because he used to sleep with both his children. He still did occasionally when they had a nightmare or when Leon’s fever refused to break. Tonight, he was glad for it for completely different reasons. 

Unable to help himself, he traced the side of Draco’s face, slowly lit by the window. Draco rested his hand over his, startling him. Though he couldn’t see his eyes, he knew that they would be shining. In a fit of gratefulness, he tugged Draco to him and intertwined their legs. The blond’s hair tickled his chin. He reached across his body and touched Severus. When his body finally relaxed and began to drift into sleep, he could feel Draco’s arms around his waist, the sheets down to his knees, and Severus’ hand trapping his neck like a collar.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for a kid being sick and in pain, nothing graphic

Harry rocked the boy in his arms. Harry sat against the headboard of his son’s bed and hummed. Leon didn’t even have enough strength to cling to him, skin yellow and thick with sweat. 

_A gentle breeze from hush-a-bye mountain softly blows o’r lullaby bay. It fills the sails of boats that are waiting, waiting to sail your worries away_. 

Harry knew that Leon’s pain was something he couldn’t control. It was a magical ailment that came and went like the weather. The boy’s core was twisted around itself, and his body didn’t know how to handle it. Sometimes, it went tense, and Leon felt like every part of him was being tortured in some arcane sense of carnival. Hallucinations made him think his hands were not his own, that because they did not belong to him, they were being pulled off. He tossed his meals and sweat under a blazing fever as his core tried to right. Harry could only sing. 

_It isn’t far to hush-a-bye mountain and your boat waits down by the key._

Draco handed him a cool cloth. Harry smiled, humming, and took it to pat against his son’s face. 

_Winds of night so softly are sighing. Soon they will fly your troubles to sea._

He continued to sing softly, and Leon whimpered and writhed in pain. Harry looked so at ease sitting there while Draco was torn by the door, unable to help and unable to leave. Severus had taken Cassandra to a picture show, and Draco half wished he could have escaped with them. How did Harry do it? How could he sit there with that child’s body in his arms and look so calm? 

Leon made a cry in the back of his throat, a pleading sound that Draco had heard from small animals trapped in spells that broke their feet. 

“Draco, go fix a bath.”

Harry voice was a soft order, in only a little less than the same cadence that he lulled to Leon. Draco realized that he was crying and gave a shaky nod, ashamed. He ran, desperate to help and knowing that Harry was trying to soothe him as much as his son. When he finished, Harry had already divested his child of his soiled clothes, and he submerged them both, even though he was fully dressed, in the tub. Leon cried out, calling for his dad. Harry was with him, pressing his hand to his forehead and shushing him in gentle, even words. Soon, Leon had calmed and the tightness of his muscles seemed to loosen in the bath. He was reduced to tremors, an unhealthy flush in his cheeks.

“That’s my brave boy. You’re doing so well, son. You’re going to be fine,” he said. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

And it was. Draco stepped from the bathroom as if having emerging from a nightmare, shaken and breathless. He discovered that Severus and Cassie had returned. Severus had fixed her a hot cocoa, and they were sitting at the counter, neither very content from the outing. 

Harry emerged from the bathroom, dripping wet and with Leon burrowed in a fluffy towel. The boy was thankfully asleep.

“Hello Cassie,” he said quietly but lightly, moving into the kitchen. “Did you enjoy the picture?”

The girl sat sullen, ignoring the drink on the table. 

“Cassie, what picture did you see?” he tried again.

She didn’t answer.

“Can you do me a favor, Cassie?” he said after retrieving something from the cabinet. With Leon on his shoulder, he bent down to her chair. “Can you eat this chocolate for me? I can’t be happy unless you’re happy.”

Tears filled her eyes, but she stuck up her chin and took it from him. Harry touched the top of her head.

“That’s my girl. And you can tell Leon all about the picture show when he wakes up alright?”

“Dad, Leon’s not going to die is he?”

Harry sucked in his breath, and for a moment, Draco and Severus watched his façade fall. It left a disastrous mess, clinging to all the wrong places like shards of a destroyed windowpane. But Harry plastered on a smile for his daughter.

“Why do you ask that?”

“He’s always sick. Denny says that sick kids die,” she said, lip trembling.

“Cassie,” he said seriously and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you ever listen to things like that. Leon’s not well, but he’s not going to die. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Good. Now eat your chocolate. I think we should make a fort in the living room so when Leon wakes up he can be surprised.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Only if you whisper and be really quiet. We want Leon to be surprised right?”

“Right,” she whispered obediently. She jumped off the chair then remembered her chocolate. She broke the bar in half. “That’s Leon’s,” she declared, glaring at Harry as if daring him to argue.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m a general.”

“Yes, general,” Harry obeyed. 

She ran off to inspect the living room and Harry went to stand. He lost his balance suddenly, with the weight of Leon, but Draco had a hand at his arm.

“Thank you,” he said, face banked in shadow. 

“I don’t understand how you do it,” Draco said.

“Neither do I,” he admitted. “I’m going to set him down and change.”

“Can I hold him?” Draco asked.

Harry looked surprised but acquiesced. He carefully shifted Leon’s weight. The boy’s hair was still wet and soaked into Draco’s shoulder. He was naked beneath the towel, and Draco startled at the feel of such weakness, the utter vulnerability of the child in his arms. Cassie came around them collecting chairs. Harry only had to reprimand her once, but otherwise she was diligent in keeping quiet. 

Without the feel of his son in his arms, the day caught up with Harry fast. He almost collapsed. This time, it was Severus who grabbed him.

“Go lie down. We have everything else.”

Harry stared at him in honest bewilderment. It took a moment for him to realize what Severus was offering and another moment for him to realize what it meant. That it was possible for him to sit down without Cassie and Leon being asleep. He looked at Draco. His arms were secure around his son, and though his eyes were still overwhelmed, they told him too that he agreed with Severus’ offer. 

Harry breathed out and fought tears out of the corner of his eyes. “Thanks.”

Severus guided him to the bedroom. Harry unbuttoned his shirt, trying to figure out what they were having for dinner. God, what time was it? He shivered as he began to peel back the shirt. He never really noticed sensations like hot and cold until he began to settle down. He sometimes imagined it was an effect from the pregnancy except that it was always like that. 

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

Severus gave an uncertain cough, and Harry turned his full attention to him, intrigued by his nervousness. 

“If you wish, if you need, I am not adverse should you have to.”

“Should I have to what?” he asked, honestly confused but also slightly amused by the dour man’s unusual timidity. 

“Never mind,” he said quickly, a small blush on his face. 

“Alright,” Harry said slowly. He gave him a long, curious look and continued pulling off sodden clothes. 

He was startled when arms came around him, limber and thin but strong nonetheless. Harry started to protest, because he’d left the door cracked and Cassie was never this quiet for long, but Severus did nothing more. 

“Severus, I’m soaking your trousers.”

“This is how people comfort each other,” he said in such a clinical voice that Harry almost snickered. “They are here,” he said more softly.

“Who?”

“Cassie and Leon. I admire your strength, Harry. In surprising ways,” he couldn’t help but add, incredibly serious. “You shouldn’t have to be so strong for so long.”

“I’m not strong,” he said. “I’m terrified.”

“Be terrified,” Severus said, tightening his hold. “We’re here now.”

And like that, the tears came. The fear that he wasn’t strong enough to hold his family together. The fear of Leon’s sickness and Cassie’s innocent, difficult questions. Tears of just simple frustration and others that echoed how deep that fear ran. 

“Where do you get off getting me into this?” Harry snapped but without real ire. “Where did you learn do this anyway?”

But of course, it was Draco. They both knew it. Who else? Harry clung to his arms. The tears were quick and silent, like small assassins, but the effect was great. He turned in Severus’ arms and embraced him. His chest felt hollow really. He was such a lanky man. But, still, he was warm, and he could hold him with the seriousness Harry needed at times, as if it was a personal duty to try to care for him. 

Harry once would have bristled at such a comparison, but he knew better the saving grace of duty and the love it took to appreciate it. 

“You’re rather sentimental, Severus.”

“If you continue to make unnecessary and unwelcome comments, I will join Draco in looking after your scions.”

“Scions?” he laughed. “Say children. Makes them sound less like insects.”

He _hmph_ed and released him. “Grumpy ole man,” he grumbled, and affectionately, Harry brushed the hair from the side of his face, like he would with either Leon or Cassie and a great number of people he supposed. On Severus, he thought the gesture much more meaningful. Maybe because it was _Severus_ letting him.

“You are handsome in the most unexpected ways, Severus Snape.”

He slapped away his hand. “I am no such thing,” he said, stalking from the room.

Harry smiled, unable to take offense. He finished drying off and changing. He heard Cassie dictating where to put the chairs, voice in an innocent stage-whisper. Severus responded in clipped tones that Cassie took even less offense to than Harry. He listened, figuring that Draco was looking over Leon from the kid-room. 

Cassie ran into the room and jumped on the bed beside him. “Are you tired?” she asked, the idea apparently very foreign to her. Her hair cascaded around her, and Harry wondered if his mother’s hair did that. He usually clipped it up, but he’d been busy with Leon. No one had brushed it, and it looked about as crazy as Harry’s. She sat on his chest, forcing a grunt from him.

“Cassie, you fattie. Have you been sneaking cookies?”

“No,” she giggled and bounced on him.

He pushed her off gently and sat up before she could clamber back on top of him. 

“I think you’ve grown since the last time I’ve seen you.”

“No,” she giggled again. 

Harry raised a hand over her head and pretended to measure her. “Nope, you’ve definitely grown since you were in the living room. At least two inches.”

“Did not!”

“Well if you say so,” he shrugged. 

She ran off to the bathroom. Severus was watching him from the door, a dark light in his eyes. Harry felt a tightening in his groin and got off the bed. The fort was a success. Harry hadn’t imagined that Severus and Draco would use magic, and a veritable castle of his linens hung from the ceiling, rich against elegant wizard lights. 

“Wow.” 

He forgot sometimes what it was like to be around magic. With all the other lights off in the house, the shadows made gentle dreams against the walls, moving in fairy tales. Cassie chased a rabbit with her fingers and burst into laughter when her shadow fled from the face of a crocodile. Leon had awoken, though he still looked grey and tired. His eyes brightened when he saw the castle. From Draco’s arms, he stared up at it, eyes rolling back and revealing the back of his throat trying to look at all of it once. 

“Dad, watch! Watch!” Cassie demanded.

She picked up a plastic princess tiaras and put it on. In a shimmer, a gown flowed down from her shoulder, translucent so that her normal clothes showed though, but pretty nonetheless. She made a twirl, displaying a patchwork of pink stardust. 

“Uncle Sev made it,” she told him. 

“I want one,” Leon said quietly. 

They found a slightly less girly crown and Severus tapped it with his wand. Leon shut his eyes as Harry put it on. The royal train of an English king was just as translucent as Cassie’s gown, blue instead of pink. Draco’s hands disappeared into the shimmer where he held him, but Leon gaped at it around him and tightened his hold Draco’s neck, smiling. 

They spent the night in the fort, once more in a world of magic. It hummed around them in soft waves. With pillows strewn around them, Harry gave lullabies, Cassie joining at moments when she could. Leon tried to stay awake, but Harry took him to his chest and stroked his hair, and even amid his sister’s chatter, he fell to the lull of Harry’s heart. 

Harry fell asleep not long after his son, clutching the boy, soothed by that heart as well. Severus and Draco somehow kept Cassie quiet until she too drifted off, sprawled on the pillow in an ungainly mess of limbs. Taking Harry’s glasses, they extinguished the lamps and joined them.


	6. Chapter 6

“So this is the infamous potion lair,” Harry said, stepping into the workshop.

Predictably, it was dark, but that didn’t seem to distract Severus or Draco from laboring over ingredients and cauldrons. Draco looked up when he entered, but Severus was too intent to take more notice. 

“You didn’t say you were dropping by,” Draco said. Harry noted that he sounded more pleased than annoyed and stepped fully into the room.

He knew better than to touch anything and kept his hands behind his back, though his eyes roamed over everything hiding in the dark recesses of the laboratory. 

“This is not a circus,” Severus said without moving his eyes from the rubies he was inspecting. 

“I’m sorry. Cassie and Leon are with the tutor, and I had time on my hands. If you aren’t busy, I was going to invite you to lunch.”

Draco opened his mouth, but Severus beat him. “As kind as such a offer would be, I’m afraid we are overworked as it is.”

“That’s alright,” Harry said quickly. “Is there anything I can do to help? Not anything important,” he hastened to say when Severus looked up with a furious expression. “Errands?”

Severus made a scoff in the back of his throat and returned to the gems. “The errands we would require of you would also require magic, which you no longer possess.”

“Severus!” Draco hissed. 

“Draco,” Harry said, marveling at his attempt at sensitivity. “I’m not going to get mad if you mention that I’m a squib. If I can’t help then I can’t help. And I don’t expect either of you to treat me like I’m delicate or something.”

He kissed the man’s check. “Not that I don’t appreciate the thought.”

Draco didn’t say anything, a mulish expression on his face, which reminded Harry…

“I’m taking Leon and Cassie for a check-up with Dr. Li tomorrow. You’re welcome to come of course. Dr. Li knows who you are,” he said sheepishly. “I had to leave him my will. I just wanted to warn you that Leon… well, he hates the hospital.”

_Gets it from me_, Harry didn’t say.

“It would be hard to imagine that a child could act like an angel all the time,” Severus said. 

Harry pressed his lips together. “Once he gets more used to you, you’ll stop comparing him to an angel.”

They both gave him a look, but he shook his head. It was just something they would have to experience for themselves. The boy certainly took after Draco with his mouth. 

“Well, I’ll leave you to your work.”

“Do you need transportation back to your home?” Severus offered.

Harry looked surprised to be asked, but he shook his head anyway. “I need to do some shopping. Are you coming to dinner?”

“Not tonight,” Draco said, glaring at the pile of orders on the desk in the corner. 

Harry tugged something from his back pocket. “Here’s the keys to the flat. I made copies for you both.”

Draco stared at them.

Harry smiled. “They aren’t going to bite you. Even if it’s the middle of the night or you just want to raid the fridge. Or you just want to see Cassie and Leon for a bit. You don’t have a phone to talk to them.”

“You really don’t mind?” Draco said, a suspicious undercurrent to his voice.

“I told you. I don’t want to keep them from you. Isn’t this what couples do?”

“Couples?” Severus inserted with a quirk of his brow.

“Triples?” he offered with his own leer.

o.O.o

He was right. Leon had thrown a fit that morning before taking the portkey to Dr. Li’s clinic in Shandong. Harry’s only grace was that he had sulked most the day rather than screaming. Draco and Severus had been unable to attend the appointment, but they’d come for dinner. Cassie had no problem being examined and had in fact enjoyed the attention. Her attitude was doing nothing for Leon, whose countenance had gotten darker and darker through dinner. He pushed the food around his plate, mashing his carrots sadistically into his potatoes.

“Leon, eat your food,” Harry said finally.

He stuck out his lip and sat back in the chair, folding his arms. Harry set down his glass of water.

“You’re not leaving the table until you eat.”

He turned his head, refusing to answer. Draco and Severus exchanged an awkward glance. Severus had taught eleven year olds but other than assigning detention and taking house points, he’d never been part of the discipline process before. Draco had never been around children at all. Cassie and Leon had both acted mostly well behaved while they had been around, and they had no idea what it was like to be faced with a six-year-old’s temper tantrum. Normally, Severus would at least be disgusted, but this was Leon, as much a child of his as Cassie. 

Harry had given them fair warning. 

“I finished, Dad,” Cassie said, not helping in the least as her brother glared at her venomously.

“You can play in the living room,” Harry said and began clearing the table. Everything except for Leon’s plate. 

There was war on Leon’s face, desire to leave and pride. He looked at his father, but Harry didn’t acknowledge him. His expression fell with hurt, but it was soon taken over with that same gruesome petulance that made up Draco’s childhood before the war. 

“You can go to the living room too,” Harry said, addressing Draco and Severus. He said it like a suggestion, but his eyes were hard. They nodded and stood.

Harry took the seat beside his son and pulled out a few accounting books. Leon sat on the edge of his seat, his jaw set with anger. Cassie had picked out a few coloring books and crayons and was content to draw, leaving Draco and Severus to shamelessly eavesdrop. 

“I’m not gonna eat it.”

“You need to eat, Leon,” he said simply.

“No!”

“Then, you’re going to sit at this table all night.”

Leon sniffled. “I hate you!” he declared maliciously.

“Well, I’m sorry that you feel that way,” Harry said placidly.

“You aren’t my dad!” he shouted, voice carrying through the living room. “I belong to Mr. Draco, don’t I? I want to live with him! I don’t want to live with you anymore!”

Draco and Severus held their breath. The silence lengthened into an uncomfortable period of time.

“Draco’s your father, yes,” Harry said at last. 

They heard the faint sound of Leon’s muffled sobs. 

“Leon,” Harry said softly. “Leon, why are you crying?”

The boy sniffed. “You’re going to give me away.”

“I’m going to what?” Harry said in astonishment. A chair scraped back. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“I’m not yours am I? Travis Benton’s mum says I’m, I’m not yours because I don’t, don’t look like you. And you brought Mr. Draco to take me back because I’m sick,” he said, ending on a horrible wailing sound.

“Oh, Leon,” Harry whispered. “Oh dear God, no.”

There was silence while Leon cried and Harry held him. Finally, he pulled away and wiped his son’s face.

“Leon, I would never abandon you, and Travis Benton’s mum can eat dirt.”

That granted a wet, stuffy chuckle. 

“Leon, listen to me. I love you very much. You and your sister mean _everything_ to me. I will never, ever chose to leave either of you. Do you understand?”

“But I’m not yours?” he said, gnawing the bone to the marrow.

Harry sighed. “It’s very complicated, Leon. You know how magic can make things funny? You were made with magic. From me and Mr. Draco. And Cassie was made from me and Mr. Sev. You are _every bit_ mine. Alright?”

Leon sniffed and nodded. Harry touched his head, embracing him again.

“How did you figure it out?” he asked quietly.

Leon stared at his lap and gave a small hiccup. “He’s pretty.”

Harry choked on a snort. “He’s what?”

“Travis Benton’s mum said I’m too pretty to be your son, so I thought I was Mr. Draco’s.”

Harry looked skyward, mouthing words he could not speak. “You’re definitely his son.”

Finally, he coaxed some nibbles of fruit and some crackers into Leon’s stomach and sent him off to bed, closely followed by his sister. Harry leaned over the counter, head tucked down. Draco took a cautious step forward. 

“I need to be alone for a moment,” he said, moving into the kitchen without looking at them.

They retreated respectfully to the living room. Harry moved back through the room and left through the front door grabbing a jacket from the hook.

The once Slytherins exchanged a glance but did not follow. The flat was strange, silent.

o.O.o

Harry sat on the park bench. The sun took a long time to fold over the jungle gym and fall into the trees. It made the sky into dusk, soft and stark with the brilliance of orange and the colors of sherbet. He hardly ever received reprieves like this, but he trusted Severus and Draco look after his children.

He didn’t know what hurt more, Leon’s assumptions that he was being given away or his accusations. Draco had magic. He could give Leon and Cassandra things he couldn’t, beautiful lights and sparkling gowns. Harry could _never_ return to that world. He wasn’t strong enough anymore. He’d faded with his image still intact. He’d been a war hero, but he wasn’t delusional. If he returned like this, they would tear him apart. For glory, in revenge, or just because they could. 

And he did miss it. So badly sometimes that it left burns across the inside of his chest. But God what he’d gained. And he was scared. He was scared of what his children would think of him when they grew up. He was weak now. Not in this world. But once, if, they went to Hogwarts, once they heard the stories, how would they be able to compare the boy who saved England to the man he was now, content simply to be near them? 

Would they turn him away? Would they think he was useless, like the Dursleys?

He sank his head in his hands, cold tears burning over his cheeks. He didn’t want to lose them. What was it going to be like in the future?

Maybe he hadn’t kept Draco and Severus out of their lives to protect them. Maybe he was just jealous. Maybe he knew that they could take them away, if not now then when they exposed them to their world. 

He was such a coward. 

It was night before Draco found him. Harry didn’t want to see him. He felt bitter and ashamed, and he didn’t want to be, not with Draco, who didn’t deserve it.

“Harry, let’s go back to the flat.”

He shook his head. Draco sat down beside him. 

“He shouldn’t have said those things.”

“I know,” he said simply, amazed at how calm he was when he felt such a tremendous urge to yell and rage. 

“Leon loves you, Harry.”

Harry gasped and buried his face deeper into his hands. How he wished it were so. How he wished it would last.

That was exactly what he wanted to hear, but it didn’t help like it should. He still felt like he was drifting, given a line that led to a great ship that might be a phantom when he touched it. Still, he clung. Even if it was fleeting, it held him afloat, and he had nothing else. 

Draco gently manhandled him upright. In a fit, Harry leaned in then repelled his touch. 

“I’m sorry,” he said a moment later but choked on the remaining words and turned away. 

Draco was silent. 

“You know how I was raised,” Draco said quietly. 

Having no idea where he was leading but not wanting to talk, Harry simply nodded. 

“I thought people without magic were worthless and weak. It’s not like they can stop us.”

That didn’t make Harry feel any better at all. He opened his mouth to curse at him, but Draco’s eyes were all wrong for it, full of regret and understanding.

“But it’s not true. Harry,” he breathed, taking a compulsive step forward. “You are so much more beautiful now. I can’t even believe you’re looking at me sometimes. And I know Severus feels it too. You make us feel _better_. You don’t know how much _power_ you hold. I’m sure Leon and Cassie feel it too.”

Harry gave him a dubious stare, uncomfortable. “I’m nothing like that.”

Draco growled. “You are. It’s damn frustrating most the time.”

That forced a laugh from him. It was short and ached, but it was there. 

“And the other times,” he asked softly.

Draco gave him a soft, needy look. “Other times… I don’t know. It just feels warm.”

Harry blushed. He didn’t understand, not at all, but somehow, he felt comforted. 

“Can we please stop acting like Hufflepuffs and go home now?” Draco whined.

This time, Harry nodded. 


	7. Epilogue

Harry stood outside the school, flicking through a pamphlet. Draco and Severus were determined to force him to go to the theatre. He could not imagine himself at an opera and thought he’d be bored out of his mind. Still, he’d agreed to it, if only because it was impossible not to when they both ganged up on him.

Finally, the bell rang. The teachers exited in a flood of students. Harry pocketed the pamphlet, searching out for his children’s distinctive heads of hair. It had been a surprise when neither Leon nor Cassandra displayed magic, but he supposed it made sense. Their _lives_ were magic. Severus gave a speech about channels of power and currents that Harry didn’t pretend to understand. 

Cassie was the first to break through the crowd, running up to him with a hundred stories falling all at one from her tongue. Leon jogged behind her, holding onto the straps of his backpack. 

“...said that two men can’t have kids and I told her _nu-ah_!”

Harry simultaneously paled and flushed. Looking up, he found himself the curious interest of several of the female faculty. Blushing, he took Cassie’s hand and dragged her away. The school was only a few blocks from the apartment. Cassie ran into the flat, tossing her backpack and lunchbox on the floor. Harry’s reprimand went unheard as she disappeared into her room to talk to her friend on the phone Severus had gifted her for her last birthday.

Leon courteously hung up his backpack, setting his lunchbox on the counter.

“How was your day?” Harry asked.

The boy shrugged. “Cassie was loud, as usual.”

Leon was in the stage where everything his sister did annoyed the piss out of him. Cassie didn’t give a hoot and teased him mercilessly. She’d made enough friends that she was often out of the apartment. Leon had grown no less reticent, the opposite of his twin, content to read while Harry cleaned and cooked. He pulled his newest acquisition out of his bag and settled at the table, even as Cassie flew by, shouting, “Bye, Dad!” over her shoulder.

“Where are you going? Wait!” 

He ran after her, given a brief description of whose mother she was imposing upon, before he released her. “Dinner at 7!” he yelled just as the door down the landing closed. He shook his head.

Draco and Severus arrived together, as they usually did, reeking of foul concoctions and smoke. Leon accepted Severus’ hand on his head. Over the years, the two had developed the best understanding of one another, and Leon even set down his book to talk to him quietly about God knew what. Draco collapsed at the table.

“I like your apron,” he said saucily.

Harry glared at him. “Shut it.”

It had been a running joke that Harry should wear the thing to bed (and nothing else). So far, he hadn’t relented but not through lack of effort on Draco’s part. Draco laughed.

Later that night, when Cassie and Leon were asleep, Severus suckled on the side of Harry’s neck that made his knees weak.

“D-don’t do that,” he complained weakly. 

He smirked, petting his sides. 

“Your... your daughter did the worst thing today,” he said breathlessly.

Draco pushed him up on his knees. Harry clung to Severus, waiting and shivering as Draco’s fingers made lazy maps against his prostate. 

“Did she?” Severus drawled.

He nodded, sweat making his arm slide over Severus’ shoulders.

“Told her... told her teachers men could... have children.” 

He moaned and pressed his chest against Severus’, lowering his head to leave bite marks on his skin, licking when Draco granted him enough breath to do so. 

“How is that a problem?” Severus asked.

“You should have... Fuck... seen their faces.”

Draco moved behind him. Balanced on his haunches, he entered him with practiced ease. Harry moaned out a sigh, riding Severus’ thighs. Dark eyes surveyed the pleasure in his face, greedy as a dragon.

“Don’t think about them,” Draco commanded. “Think about us.”

He pushed him down over Severus’ lap and fucked him. As he took Severus’ dick into his mouth, he agreed. There were much better things to think about.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who sent me such sweet reviews and kudos. I love you all so much, and I hope you enjoyed this short piece of my imagination as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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